Any Luck at All

by Denise Grover Swank

  She looked from Georgie to Jack, and back. “Oh, you’re his grandchildren, aren’t you?”

  “Can we fire her?” Jack asked Georgie.

  “You’re being sarcastic again, aren’t you?” Josie said, shaking her head. “I’ve always thought sarcasm was the lowest form of humor.”

  Rather than break the news that Jack was obviously serious, River looked her in the eye. “Can you take me back to Lurch, Josie? I need to know what else he did.”

  If it was only a mess, they could clean it. Not the best first impression of the brewery, but whatever. They’d all known there would be work to do.

  Turning to Georgie and Jack, he said, “I’ve known him for years. I can talk him around.”

  Jack gave him another suspicious glance, then said, “Okay, but I’m going with you.”

  “Do you have some kind of problem with me, man?” River said, getting kind of pissed. “If I remember correctly, this whole thing was your idea.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said with an aggrieved sigh. “I guess it was. Don’t mind me. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

  A massive understatement, but he’d let it go for now.

  “I’ll go with him, Jack,” Georgie said. “One of us should go, and you’re not in the right headspace.”

  Jack just nodded, pressing his hand to his forehead as if he had a headache.

  “Are you sure you don’t just want to go on the tour?” Josie asked, cocking her head. “We can take our shoes off, if you’re worried about getting them dirty. Then maybe Lurch will wake up on his own.”

  “Wouldn’t that be unhygienic?” Georgie asked, her brows pinched together.

  This was spiraling out of control pretty fast.

  “Josie, maybe you should go home,” River said. “I’ll put your shawl aside after we talk to Lurch.”

  “Okay,” she said, already getting up. “Save the bubble machine for me too.”

  “I thought you said he found it on the street?” Georgie asked, although it was obvious she didn’t expect to like the answer.

  “He did,” Josie said, as if it should be obvious. “My street.”

  Jack sighed again, louder this time, and poured himself a glass of water as Josie let herself out of the building.

  “Okay, here goes nothing,” Georgie said, getting to her feet. River did the same.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked as they headed toward the back. “I can tell your brother was tense before the whole”—he gestured to the brewery—“bubble debacle. And you look…sad, I guess.” And scared.

  “Just some unexpected news about the family,” she said. The way she said it told him he shouldn’t pry, and so he didn’t. She paused, turning to look at him. “I’m sorry about the way I greeted you before. I didn’t mean to seem cold. I just…”

  “We’re going to be working together, and you’re trying to stay professional, right?”

  “Something like that,” she said with a small smile.

  “Look, I get it. It’s a weird situation. Let’s handle this other very weird situation, and then maybe we can talk.”

  She nodded slightly and started walking again. “I’d like that.”

  “Now, about Lurch…” he started, but when they got into the back, Lurch was sitting on Josie’s abandoned stool, holding his head. His bald head, which had more than a few bubbles on it.

  He jolted back when he saw them, nearly falling off the stool.

  “Oh,” he said when he saw River, “it’s you.” He glanced at Georgie, his eyes widening. “And this must be Beau’s granddaughter, Georgie.” He managed to sound not displeased about the fact, which was an impressive feat given that he currently sat in a sea of bubbles of his own making. “I’d love to talk to you, but can I steal River away for just a minute?”

  That last bit had been said in pure panic.

  Georgie gave River a look, and when he nodded, she said, “Sure. I’ll be waiting out in the tasting room.”

  And wouldn’t Jack love that.

  But River didn’t have any time to question what had happened to the Buchanans. As soon as Georgie left, Lurch grabbed him by the bottom of his shirt and pulled him forward.

  “You have to help me, River. I think I peed in one of the kettles last night, but I don’t remember which one.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Georgie found Jack where she’d left him, clutching his pint glass with enough force that it looked liable to crack.

  “Well?” he asked with a dark scowl.

  “Lurch had something he wanted to discuss in private, so I told River I’d wait out here.”

  Jack groaned. “I bet he did.”

  Georgie sat across from him and lowered her voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know what it means, Georgie. How do we know that River and Lurch aren’t making plans to sabotage us? After last night, we know that beer is River’s life. Beau gave him his start. This place is nostalgic for him, and he obviously has more fond memories with the old guy than you do.”

  While Jack had absolutely none.

  All of that might be true, but it didn’t mean River was out to get them. “We spent several hours with him last night,” Georgie argued gently, “and granted, we were drinking, but River didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would use subterfuge to get what he wants.” She leaned closer. “Not to mention that I doubt he even knows the terms of Grandpa Beau’s will. Before or after.”

  “We can’t count on that. We need to find someone else for the job.”

  She was surprised at the shiver of fear that sent through her blood, not only for the business, but for her. She wanted to see him every day, even if they couldn’t have a romantic relationship. They could still be friends…well, as friendly as a boss and her employee could be. “We can’t do that, Jack. We need him.”

  “What if he finds out?”

  “All the more reason to tell him!” she whisper-shouted.

  This had been the root of their argument on their walk to the brewery. Georgie wanted to tell River so there wouldn’t be any secrets. She figured it would be better to put it all out in the open. But Jack was vehemently opposed to it.

  Normally, Georgie might have agreed with her half-brother. His arguments were sensible, but she had a good sense of people, and she couldn’t believe River would act so duplicitously. “There’s not a vindictive bone in his body. I think he’d be touched to know that Beau had considered him.”

  “Or pissed that Beau had planned to give it to him until you showed up a month ago.” Jack took a breath and glanced out the window to the empty courtyard, and when he turned back to her, his face had softened. “Georgie, I actually think you’re right about some of it and wrong about the rest. I think River is a good guy—a great guy. But if we go through with hiring him, which I’m still not convinced we should, we absolutely can’t tell him. Even a saint would have second thoughts about saving this place if not saving it means he gets to keep it.”

  Georgie started to protest, then stopped to reconsider. Her gut told her that River could be trusted, but it was a tough call. She couldn’t let her personal feelings get in the way. “If we don’t keep him, then what do you propose we do? River said that Beau came up with all the best recipes for Buchanan, not Lurch. Lurch quit anyway, and even if he hadn’t, this whole mess would have twisted our arms. We’ll have to hire someone, and I have no idea who we’d go to next.”

  Jack leaned closer. “River can’t be the only brewmaster around.”

  “I’m sure he’s not,” Georgie admitted, “but he’s available. And he’s won awards.” Hadn’t she spent half an hour before bed researching him on her phone? She’d been tipsy enough that her predictive text function had been wildly off-kilter. River had somehow been corrected to “ride her,” which had made her blush, even alone in her room. Shaking the memory off, she placed her hand on the table. “Jack, let’s not forget that we’ll lose the brewery if we don’t come in fifth or higher at B
rewfest. We can’t just hire any brewmaster, we have to hire a great one.”

  Sitting up, Jack tilted his head slightly. “Don’t you find it odd that River lost his job the very day of Beau’s funeral?” His gaze leveled with Georgie’s. “The day River found out he didn’t get it.”

  “There wasn’t a single ounce of bitterness in him last night,” Georgie said. “He didn’t know about the provision. I’m sure of it.”

  Jack pursed his lips. “We need to call his former employer.”

  “What?”

  “If we’re hiring him, then we should talk to his former employer and get a reference.” When she didn’t respond, he cajoled, “Come on, Georgie. You’re the experienced businesswoman. Why aren’t you thinking about this stuff?”

  He was right. And normally she would have, but she was letting her feelings for River cloud her judgment. Again.

  “We’ll call him together,” she said, getting to her feet. “Come on. Let’s go outside and I’ll put him on speaker.”

  She headed for the door and didn’t stop until she was partially down the street, Jack trailing her like a puppy. She’d already pulled out her phone, looked up River’s former employer, and placed the call.

  “Big Catch Brewing,” a woman said in a friendly voice.

  Georgie stood next to the side of the brick building and put the phone on speaker, holding it up between her and Jack so he could hear. “I’d like to speak to Finn, please.”

  If River had told her Finn’s last name, she’d forgotten it. In hindsight, she should have looked it up. She should have done more homework period, but it was too late now.

  There was a moment’s pause. “May I ask who’s calling?”

  She could lie, but the direct approach had always worked best for her, one more reason she wanted to be upfront with River. “Georgie Buchanan. It’s in regard to River Reeves.”

  The woman gasped, then said in a shaky voice, “One moment, Ms. Buchanan.”

  An elevator music rendition of “Another One Bites the Dust” filled the air.

  “She knows who you are,” Jack murmured. “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”

  “It means the brewing community in Asheville is small…or Big Catch has already caught wind that River’s going to be working for us.”

  The music ended mid-chorus, interrupted by a friendly male voice. “Ms. Buchanan, this is Finn Hamilton. I have to say I’m surprised to hear from you so soon.”

  She was surprised he’d expected to hear from her at all. “Pleasantly surprised, I hope,” she said with a little laugh. “And please, call me Georgie.”

  Jack’s expression was grim.

  “It’s just that most employers get references for employees before they make an offer, Georgie.” He sounded perfectly reasonable, but she caught the slight bite in his words.

  “This is just a formality,” she said, still keeping her upbeat tone. “Dotting all the I’s for HR.”

  He laughed. “Last I heard, Beau didn’t believe in HR departments. He let Dottie handle anything employee-related.”

  After meeting Josie and seeing Lurch, that explained so much.

  “Welllll…” Georgie said in a slow drawl, “that will probably change after we get everything settled, so, you know, formalities.”

  “What do you want to know?” Finn asked. He sounded friendly but guarded.

  “Finn, this is Jack Durand,” Jack said in a direct tone, giving Georgie a look of challenge. “One of the Buchanan siblings.”

  Finn chuckled. “Dottie said there was a bit of drama at the will reading, and from the sound of it, your mere existence was one of them.”

  Dottie was friends with Finn? She wasn’t sure why she was surprised. Finn was River’s friend, and he was close to his aunt.

  Jack made a face that suggested he was about to go off on the man, but instead he asked, “How long has River worked for you?”

  Finn chuckled again. “We’ve been friends for about five years now, and business partners for one day less than that.”

  “Partners?” Georgie said before she could stop herself. “River said you sold Big Catch Brewing and told him after the fact. That doesn’t make it sound like you were partners.”

  Finn was quiet for a moment. “Okay, you have me there, but truth be told, Big Catch wouldn’t be what it is without River.” He paused, then said under his breath, “Damn, I really screwed that one up.”

  Jack’s eyes widened as he caught Georgie’s gaze.

  “If you want a reference,” Finn said, sounding resigned, “here you go—if you’re looking for a man dedicated to the craft of making beer, River’s your man. And if you’re looking for a loyal friend, he’s your guy too. The man’s only fault is his idealism, which some would say is one of his best traits. The only reason he left was because I screwed up and left him out of the loop. He wasn’t fired and Bev Corp wanted him as part of the package. You’ll be damn lucky to have him.” Then he hung up.

  Georgie lowered the phone. “River didn’t know anything about the will.”

  Frowning, Jack said grudgingly, “Agreed.”

  “Jack, we have to keep him.”

  Jack gave her a long look. “Okay, but only if we don’t tell him about the will.”

  Georgie hated to keep it from him, but she had to wonder if River would see Beau’s decision as a betrayal. Maybe it would be too much for him to handle after what had happened with Finn. Besides, if they failed, he’d get the brewery anyway, and while she suspected River would never give less than 110%, this way he’d never have to ask himself if he’d subconsciously held back. Keeping it from him was for the best. For them, and for him.

  “Fine,” she said, “but let’s get back in there and see what needs to be done. We’ve got a hell of a mess to clean up.” She didn’t just mean the bubbles. Everything pointed to Buchanan Brewery being more than she’d bargained for, both in terms of commitment and money.

  As they headed back to the door, Georgie asked, “You said you could move within a month or so, right?”

  “Six weeks at the most. Is the offer still good to stay at Beau’s house?”

  “Of course, it’s your house too. There are four bedrooms. Plenty of room for both of us.” But she couldn’t help thinking that meant an awful lot of togetherness for two virtual strangers. Then she moved on to the uncomfortable question, one she had to ask even if she already suspected the answer. “Do you have any money to help finance bringing the brewery up to speed?”

  His face paled. “Georgie…”

  That was a fat no. Which meant it was going to be up to her. She had the money, but this whole thing was starting to scare the crap out of her.

  You have River.

  He had the knowledge and talent to create award-winning beers, the kind of brews that would bring in tourists and locals. That restaurants and bars would want on tap. They could do this. Together. The three of them. Yet it wasn’t lost on her that she and Jack were the most replaceable parts of the equation. River was the essential part.

  Which made her feel even guiltier about keeping their secret.

  They found River in the tasting room. She found herself reaching up to brush back her hair. River made her feel nervous and scared and excited and hopeful for the future all at the same time. She just had to keep in mind that any future with him was strictly business.

  She gave him a warm smile, hoping Jack treated him better after talking to Finn. But River wasn’t returning her smile. In fact, he didn’t look happy at all.

  “Georgie. Jack.” He took a deep breath, then said five words that brought fear to her heart. “We have a major problem.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “He what?”

  Georgie, quite rightfully, had a look of horror on her face. A quick glance at Jack revealed he looked pissed again—whatever brother-sister pep talk they’d had outside had already been forgotten—and not a little suspicious. Like maybe he thought River had given Lurch a boost up that ladde
r.

  Stupidly enough, the how of it had been River’s first question to Lurch.

  “How the hell did you get up there if you were drunk enough to douse this place with bubbles?” he’d asked.

  Lurch had just shrugged, the movement dislodging one of the bubbles on his scalp, and said, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” A pause, then he’d added, “And I was drunk enough to think the bubbles would catch me if I fell.”

  Then he’d leaned over and vomited, giving them something else to clean up.

  Jack shot Georgie a look—lots of silent conversations going on here—and said, “I’d like to talk to Lurch.” His fierce gaze shifted back to River. “Alone.”

  Part of River wanted to say be my guest. Lurch deserved it, didn’t he? The man had pissed in a kettle of beer, which was beyond a cardinal sin for a brewmaster, and worse, he didn’t know which one it had been.

  For all they knew, it had only been the fever dream of a very drunk old man. But it didn’t matter. If the Buchanans were any kind of honest, this meant they had to throw out the contents of every single kettle.

  Georgie’s panicked expression said she knew it.

  “I told him to leave out the back,” River said. “He’s in no shape to talk. But I suggested he come by Monday morning to apologize. Just fair warning that morning to him is noon, earliest.”

  “Of course it is,” Jack muttered, rubbing his brow. “What kind of sideshow is this?”

  “The Cesspool of Sin,” River said with a grin, shifting his gaze to Georgie. Her eyes had a faraway look, like her mind was hard at work, reaching for a solution. Or maybe trying to figure out a way to rewind the last hour so she could tear up those papers instead of signing them. “Or so some politician called us. We wear it as a badge of pride.” His grin slipped. “Look, you might want to go easy on him.”

  “Go easy?” Jack said, raising his voice. “And why the hell would we do that?” The accusation in his tone was obvious. He leveled a glance at Georgie, cutting River out, and said, “We should take legal action against that idiot.”